


Poly Party

by domini_moonbeam



Category: Redacted ASMR
Genre: Getting Together, Light Angst, Multi, Polyamory, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-11
Updated: 2021-03-11
Packaged: 2021-03-18 06:22:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29978700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/domini_moonbeam/pseuds/domini_moonbeam
Summary: Freelancer has a party to introduce their friends to Gavin and collide their two worlds.
Relationships: Freelancer/Gavin/Huxley/Damien
Comments: 2
Kudos: 11





	Poly Party

**Author's Note:**

> This is ongoing so I'll add tags as things occur!

Gavin roamed the party. He was very good with people, after all. He chatted up a vamp and his date for a bit. Freelancer had invited over handfuls of classmates and their dates for an after-finals party that Gavin suspected was more about mingling their school friends with him. Not that he was complaining. It had taken time for them to get to this point—to the point where his deviant wanted to share everything.

Gavin ended up talking to a fire elemental near the edge of the room. They’d never met but he’d heard about him a few times from the deviant.

“So, you live here now?” Damien asked, voice sharp.

Gavin almost side-stepped answering, so used to being intentionally obtuse that he very nearly missed an opportunity to continue heating up this elemental. Gavin had always had a soft spot for fires, especially the ones trying so hard to stay in control. “Looks like it. But don’t worry, I’m not going to get in your way if you two want to fuck.” He loved that word—loved the way it reverberated through Damien like a shockwave, making his eyes widen, his teeth snap, and the air around him heat up a degree or two.

“Excuse me?” Damien ground out.

“I know you want them,” Gavin mused. He hadn’t really thought about it before he was saying it, but it was there in the air around him. Gavin could always tell who was interested in who. He leaned closer subconsciously when the fire’s heartbeat picked up and the air around him spiked with panic and fear. It wasn’t the best reaction but he understood. Many people reacted this way to having their interests called out.

Damien took an almost stumbling step back.

Gavin caught his wrist before he could bump into the bookshelf along the wall.

Heat rippled under his fingers as if Damien was trying to pull it back from his own skin, moving it away from his touch. Gavin didn’t let go, because the fire elemental didn’t want him to. He stroked his thumb against his pulse. The heat didn’t scare him. Incubi knew how to redirect loose energy. As long as the fire wasn’t actively trying to harm him, that heat wouldn’t. But he realized the elemental didn’t know that. He had suspected Damien wasn’t used to physical contact, but now he _knew_ it. That panic sharpened in his senses when he focused on him, feeling the way he worried about what his own powers could do, about the reactions of others, about hurting someone and getting hurt for it. It came with flickers of memories, a jumbled mess.

Damien cared deeply for the freelancer and Gavin would have known that even if he couldn’t feel it in the man’s energy. But he hadn’t really let himself think about what he wanted beyond friendship—not with the deviant or anyone else.

He was wound too tightly. Afraid of hurting someone, if not physically than emotionally. Afraid of not being good enough. Afraid of not being wanted. Afraid—

Gavin caught the echo of a panicked memory. Of feeling small and frightened and in pain—

Damien jerked his arm free, eyes wide for a second before he schooled his features into a curled lip and a flash of anger.

Gavin took a step back, offering him space rather than crowding him against the bookshelf. He suddenly didn’t want to fluster for the fire elemental anymore. He was a good person and he cared about other people. He didn’t deserve to feel that tangled up. “Seriously, we’re not exclusive or anything. If you want to sleep over some time, I wouldn’t mind,” Gavin said, quietly like their secret, each word curled around the edge of a smirk.

Damien’s eyes flared again and he actually shivered before shooting Gavin a glare like he thought he was making fun of him before storming away—toward the kitchen, where they both knew the freelancer was hanging out with a group pouring drinks.

Gavin considered following but decided against it. It didn’t take long before he was absorbed by another group. A cluster of jocks and their dates. Gavin spent half the vapid conversation trying to figure out who in this mess was a friend of his deviant and who was just tagging along.

He was losing interest and about to peel away when one of the larger jocks looked at him like he’d just placed him. Which was odd, because they’d definitely never met. “Holy shit, you’re the incubus, right?” he blurted out.

His date elbowed him in the ribs, trying to shush him, but the big guy didn’t seem to notice.

And the other jock, the one that up until this point hadn’t really seemed to be paying attention to the conversation (not that Gavin could blame him) looked at him too.

The first jock dragged his gaze up and down Gavin in a way he wasn’t at all unfamiliar with—even if it wasn’t always welcomed. “You’re supposed to be able to change shape right? Like, you can look like whatever I want you to look like?”

“Rustle…” his date hissed at him now.

Rustle ignored them, taking a step closer to Gavin with a leering grin. “Do it,” he urged.

Gavin blinked, for a second stunned silent—which was not at all normal for him. He had dealt with every sort of human, empowered or not, and never hesitated to tell assholes like this right where to go. But this was freelancer’s crowd. What if he made a scene? Would it matter? A part of him knew there was no way his deviant would be okay with this douchebag but that didn’t stop him from hesitating.

Before he could decide what to do—before this guy could inhale to say something more—the other jock threw a heavy arm over the back of Rustle’s shoulders, leaning his weight on him so hard that Rustle jarred from his current focus and didn’t seem to notice the other guy steering him away, toward the door. “You need to go home, man,” the formerly quiet jock said. The words sounded friendly enough but there was a hard line in them—like the guy just wasn’t used to being angry. “That’s not cool.”

Rustle argued, their date trailing behind them and the second jock still leading him toward the front of the apartment. “I was just—”

“Nah. You crossed a line. Go home. Sober up. And don’t say shit like that to people. No excuses, man.” He unhooked his arm from his shoulders and then stood there, like a wall, waiting for him to leave before he finally walked back into the mingling groups of laughter and drinks—like nothing had happened.

Gavin was a little surprised when the big guy came back to him. “Sorry about that. Guy’s a dick. He’s on my team and I was kind of worried he’d be a problem when I saw him here tonight…” He shrugged, picking up the beer he’d put down at some point. “His date’s pretty great though…probably how he ended up here.”

Gavin nodded slowly, loving the way this guy talked. “You might be the smoothest bouncer I’ve ever seen…”

“What? Ah, nah, I’m not a bouncer. I’m just…me.”

Gavin marveled for a second, mind reeling. The energy around this guy was so calm he’d barely even looked at him until now—but now he couldn’t imagine missing him in this crowd. “And you are?”

“Oh!” He laughed. “Huxley.” He held his hand out.

Gavin smiled at the name because it all made sense now. The deviant had told him about their friend Hux. He shook his hand. His energy was so calm and open, like he didn’t even know to hide anything from the world or from himself. “I’m Gavin.”

“Yeah. I’ve heard about you.”

Gavin noticed Huxley’s t-shirt then. The number 69 on it. Should he comment or not? He couldn’t really ignore it, could he? “Sixty-nine, huh? Is that a jersey number or something?”

“Hm?” Huxley looked down and laughed, seeming surprised by his own shirt. “Oh! Nah, it’s a nickname. Kind of a lucky number, I guess?”

Gavin grinned out of control. “I consider it a lucky number too.”

The big guy smiled back. “Really? Cool.”

* * *

When Gavin went to the kitchen a half hour later to get more drinks, he bumped into the freelancer in the hall, voices booming laughter in their little apartment. He caught his deviant by the waist and tugged them in close, stealing a kiss before saying over the voices and the music, “Jesus, you didn’t tell me you knew an actual, for real, himbo! He’s precious. Do you realize how rare a real himbo is?”

Deviant grinned like a cat. “You like Hux?”

“Like him? We’re keeping him.”

Something shone in the deviant’s eyes and there was a ripple of excitement in their energy. If he’d had any doubts about their interest in Huxley, it was gone now. They’d never been exclusive and had talked some about adding more people to their relationship, now he supposed they’d be having a more specific conversation.

“And there’s the fire boy…” Gavin added, not having forgotten him by far.

“Damien?”

“Mm…I like him. Could be risky in bed though.”

They tensed, looking up at Gavin. “Risky?”

He shrugged. “Fire elementals can be…hot.” He grinned at the double meaning. “Things tend to get fiery when they get…overstimulated.”

They frowned but didn’t unravel from him. “He wouldn’t hurt us.”

Gavin smirked at their telling reaction and the deviant blushed, obviously having thought about Damien in this context before. He kissed the corner of their mouth. “I’m not worried about us. I’m worried about our bed.” _Our_. It was still a new word choice—one that thrilled him. He spun the deviant out of his arms and started for the open kitchen and the drinks. “But we can always get another bed,” he promised, in case he wasn’t clear enough about his priorities.

**Author's Note:**

> [tumblr](https://dominimoonbeam.tumblr.com/)


End file.
